


Hurricanes

by bio_at



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 21:59:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bio_at/pseuds/bio_at
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Desmond helps Lucy with a babysitting job. From the kinkmeme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hurricanes

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in a long while and this is already pretty long for me, so sorry :T The prompt was too cute to resist, though.
> 
> kinkmeme link: http://asscreedkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/2158.html?thread=11163502#cmt11163502

1.

He was just about to take a nap when his phone started ringing.

“Yeah?”

“Desmond, do you have plans this afternoon?” As always, Lucy is to the point.

He checked his watch; it was 1 in the afternoon. “Not really. I was going to catch up on sleep…” He’d taken the night shift at the bar the night before, but his body clock was screwed up enough that he didn’t feel very sleepy. “But I don’t really—”

“Well, great! How about you come help me with a babysitting job. Rebecca can’t make it and the parents say they’ll give you her share.”

He’d already agreed by the word ‘babysit’. “How many kids?”

“Three boys. I’d try manage them myself, but I’ve never done that before and I don’t want to endanger these sweethearts,” she cooed, and there is quiet laughter in the background and Desmond can practically hear her smile. “Please, Des? It’s not that far from your place,” she adds helpfully.

“Lucy, please. I babysit drunks for a living. How hard can kids be?”

( _Famous last words_ , Lucy thought, laughing as she hung up.)

 

2.

He pulled up in front of a moderately-sized house, parked his motorcycle and rechecked that he was at the right address before he rang the doorbell.

“That’s him!” Lucy called. “Go open the door, Con.”

There was a pattering of little feet and a boy of four or five opened the door and gave him a quick-once over. The boy grabbed his hand and pulled him gently into an adjacent room, where Lucy was barefoot on the couch and smiling at him, with two other boys clinging to her, strongly focused on the TV show. The boy who opened the door let go of his hand and scrambled up next to his brother, and assumed the same focus on the television. His brothers shrieked with laughter at a joke he missed, and he reached around to tug on Lucy and grumbled, “Al’s turn to get up next, okay?”

Lucy ruffled his hair and tucked him closer to his brother as Desmond sat on a vacant chair. “I’ll introduce you after the show,” she said quietly, as the boys gasped in unison.

Desmond glanced at the kids, who were throwing him curious looks when they weren’t too focused on the show. The boy who opened the door must be the youngest, he thought, noticeably smaller than his brothers. The only one with short hair looked like he was permanently annoyed or bored, and another with long, ponytailed hair had a mischievous glint in his eyes. To his surprise, these two had a tiny, identical cut on the lips, and his fingers quickly traced over a similar scar on his lips from a bar fight a few years back.

His fingers were still on his lips when the episode ended, and the kids stretched and babbled at each other as the credits rolled. “Alright boys, this is Desmond,” Lucy said, gesturing to him, and the three scrambled over each other to get a better look at him. “Becca’s not here today, so he’ll help me instead. Be nice to him.”

“Desmond?” The youngest repeated shyly, looking at Lucy then at him.

“That’s right,” she encouraged, “Desmond, this is Connor, the youngest.”

“Thanks for opening the door, Connor.” He leaned forward to take the chubby hand he extended politely. “How old are you?”

“Four.” He played with his hands nervously. “How old are you?”

Lucy laughed and Desmond smiled, liking the kids already. “I’m 25.”

“Ezio is five,” Lucy continued, and the little ponytailed boy puffed his chest proudly. “So if you live five times as long as you have, you’ll be as old as Desmond.”

“What?” Ezio scrunched up his face in concentration. All three boys looked confused, but the eldest recovered quickest. “That’s mul-ti-pli-ca-tion, innit?”

“That’s right, er—”

“Altair,” the boy said evenly, crossing his arms and regarding Desmond with the intensity of someone who was about to interview him for a job.

“So what about you? How old are you?”

“Seven,” Altair said coldly, and Ezio leaned toward Desmond. “Sorry about him, he’s a meanie.”

“I _heard_ that.” Altair tackled his brother, and Ezio was already laughing before Altair tickled him mercilessly.

“Now now boys, we don’t want to wreck the couch,” Lucy said tiredly, with the air of someone who’d seen this a hundred times before.

“YEAH!” Ezio gasped, as Altair ceased to tickle him, both grinning. “Let’s go wreck the play house instead!”

Ezio hurtled towards a back door, and Altair took Connor’s hand as the youngest mumbled, “Please don’t wreck the play house.” Altair grinned, which had the effect of a lion baring his fangs trying to smile. Connor seemed used to this, however; he sighed, gave his brother a little gentle smile, and let himself get hauled along.

Lucy ran after them, suppressing a laugh as she saw Desmond’s face. “Those boys are capable of it, you know.”

 

3.

When they reached the backyard, Ezio was precariously perched on apex of the roof of the playhouse, triumph etched into his features as naturally as if he’d been born with it. Altair was hanging off the side of the roof, making his way around the tiny house, about two feet off the ground. Desmond instinctively ran up to him and immediately made to pick him up, but Altair swung himself upward and perched on the edge of the roof smugly.

“Don’t worry!” Altair said happily, “We do this all the time.”

“We have yet to teach Con though,” Ezio continued, sliding down to sit next to his brother. “His arms are just a little bit too short to reach the ledges.”

Desmond glanced at where Lucy was sitting with Connor, sitting on the root of a tree that provided most of the shade in the backyard. Connor sat sulkily facing the trunk, his little arms crossed in an attempt at contempt.

“These kids climb around this playhouse everyday?” Desmond asked incredulously, gesturing over at where Ezio was swinging from a pole. Altair chuckled when he heard the question.

“Yes, and I know it seems ridiculous at first, but they have a _knack_ for it. You should see them play The Floor is Lava—apparently one time Altair made it to the roof of the house somehow and couldn’t get down, Ezio found it so hilarious. It’s in their genes or something.”

“The roof? Ho _ly_ —” he started to swear, but Lucy shot him a pointed glare. “—cows. Don’t… don’t they get _hurt_?”

“Not _yet_ , they don’t. They really can’t fall very far, even if they fell… which they don’t, so.” Lucy stroked Connor’s hair absentmindedly. “I’ve learned to trust them not to hurt themselves when climbing things.”

“But Connor can’t climb the playhouse, huh.”

“This always happens,” Lucy said in a low voice, as Connor turned away huffily. “Altair and Ezio always try to help him up, but they’re too little to support his weight.”

“How about I carry you over, then?” Desmond asked Connor, who muttered, “I wanna do it myself. My brothers can…”

Desmond looked all around the backyard before turning back to the tree, which just happened to have a branch that hung low over the playhouse’s roof. “This tree,” he started to say, and Lucy gasped and said, “I cannot _believe_ I didn’t think of that.”

“What? Think of what?” Connor asked, looking between them, and Desmond leaned down so he was level with the kid, and pointed at the trunk of the tree he’d been sitting on. “That looks climbable, doesn’t it?”

Connor hummed thoughtfully, a high, curious note that made Desmond want to pinch his chubby cheeks. “I don’t know. Altair and Ezio never climbed trees before.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t,” Desmond said brightly. “Let’s see you try. I’ll stand here and watch over you. Just try to make it to that branch that sticks out over the playhouse.”

Connor stood and stared at the trunk, and started to make his slow, steady way up the tree. He grabbed and tugged at little branches and stumps, testing their strength before placing his weight on anything. Desmond hovered warily below him, ready to catch him at any moment should he fall, but like Lucy said, the brothers seemed to have a natural gift for climbing. Twice, Connor nearly fell, but he righted himself quicker than it took for Desmond’s heart to skip a beat. Soon enough he was at the branch, and Ezio and Altair were cheering from on top of the playhouse.

Connor ran quickly over the branch and landed lightly on the roof, leaving the branch swaying up and down. Desmond exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“That was some excellent climbing, sweetie,” Lucy said to Connor, who was grinning broadly. It was nothing like the exasperated smile he’d seen him give to Altair earlier; in fact, his smile made him look rather like Ezio.

“I did it,” he said flatly.

 “Good job, little brother,” Ezio crooned, and trapped Connor in a hug. Connor writhed to get away, yelled ‘ _stupid Ezio_ ’! and nearly caused them to fall off the roof.

“Thank you,” he said shyly, turning big puppy-dog eyes towards Desmond as Ezio ‘aww’-ed, earning him a punch from Connor and a laugh from Altair.

“So cute,” Altair teased.

“No, YOU’RE cute!” Connor snapped.

“No, you’re all cute,” Desmond said loudly, blushing a little. It was true. They were being so cute, he wanted to crush them in a hug and pinch their cheeks. Altair huffed haughtily while Connor reddened and Ezio rubbed at his nose.

“It’s about time for snacks, don’t you think?” Lucy interrupted, and Desmond thought she looked rather proud.

Altair and Ezio nimbly jumped down from the roof, but Connor wordlessly stuck out his arms towards Desmond in the universal kids’ gesture for ‘pick me up’; Desmond complied, rather surprised that Connor was letting him pick him up. Lucy bit her lip to stop a stupid grin from spreading across her face as Desmond carried Connor into the house.


End file.
